Vritra
by Misslemike
Summary: The background story of my OC Vritra. Read to find out more about my character. Rated T to be safe. PM me if you want to borrow my character, I'll send over an information sheet with much more detail. Contains 3 references, anyone who finds them all will get a cookie. Please R&R, I appreciate the feedback. [HUMAN FORM]


**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Happy Tree Friends, only my OCs: Vritra**

The background story for my OC Vritra. Read this if you want to try and understand more of the character's history.

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**"**_**Insanity**_**: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." - Albert Einstein**

War. Such a provocative thought. An insane one at that, too. Why continuously fight a losing battle when in this day and age you can just drop a hydrogen bomb and be done with it? I have to thank war though, it made me the way I am today. Conflict hardened me. It made me emotionless. It made me…Powerful. It made me suffer injuries. It had killed me, quite literally, and brought me back to life as an almost emotionless monster. It had caused me to become unstable, a killing machine, what some would call a 'deranged psychopath'. Yet no-one said that to my face. They were all too frightened. The ones who didn't know me? They just thought I was a outlandish man. However, those who did recognise my face, recalled the warnings and the watchlists, they just huddled in the furthest corner of the room I was in and tried to evade eye contact. I guess that's what you get when you're the deadliest weapon any person could get their hands on.

I was a war veteran. Served in the army for 7 long years, I did. Got to the rank of First Lieutenant, and I was proud of myself back then. It wasn't easy, but I had finally gotten into the 'Top Brass', finally nearing the main roles of management. That had been when it happened. I was on my way in an APC, heading towards a newly established bunker towards the north, when an artillery strike had rained down on us. I was the only survivor. Even then I was badly wounded, near-death, as they said. I remember the smell of blood, of the acrid burning flesh all around me. Then I had heard it. Miraculously, the communications unit from one of the APCs was still working. I radioed for help, sent out an SOS. Turns out we were pretty close to the new bunker, it only took minutes for the salvage crew to arrive. They checked the still intact bodies. None were breathing. I remember being hauled into a stretcher, brought into a makeshift medical tent, before blacking out.

The ground breaking decision was made then. I was to be implanted with experimental nanotechnology, in an attempt to save my life. Not only was it a chance to save me, but it was also a chance to test their newfound technology. I was transported via a transport helicopter, flanked by two apache copters for security, and moved to main HQ for the implants. It had hurt like hell, but in the end it had been worth it. I survived, just barely. I remember my good friend, back then the General in command, coming to visit me every so often, to oversee my recovery. Seems that he was the one who gave the order that saved my life. I was grateful for him. By the time I recovered, I realised something was different about me.

It first occurred when I was still in rehabilitation. I had grabbed my IV drip stand, only to have it snap completely in half. At first I thought the it was because the metal was faulty, but when the engineers had inspected it, they said it was completely fine, and that something else had externally caused it to snap. That was when I started realising something was fishy. Not long after, I realised completely by accident that my sight had also gotten a massive improvement, when I read a letter that the soldier at the other end of the room had received from his loved one. I was still in bed and was wondering what he was doing, before realising that I could read every word on the letter. It wasn't intentional, but that was the push that led me to believe it wasn't just recovery nanotechnology that they had put in me. I confronted the doctor that was overseeing my rehabilitation about it. He revealed I was also genetically enhanced for military purposes.

Not long after, I was redeployed into the field. I was sent to Bracken Hill, where the lack of soldiers and firepower on our side had almost led to the loss of our base there. That was the first time I used my new abilities in full. I realised I could see the bullets whizzing past, and that I could calculate their exact trajectory and force in under a millisecond. I realised how much of a difference this would have. The last of our soldiers had already surrendered and were being rounded up when I appeared. The enemy had snickered at me, fired a single round at my chest. Time seemed to slow down. I reached out and plucked the metal round from the air. The soldiers had seemed confused, until I raised my hand to show them the lead round between my thumb and index finger. Before they could react, I had flicked it back at them, the round hitting the soldier who shot it through the face, instantly killing him. It had hit him with so much force that his body had flew through the air, like a ragdoll. The other soldiers were amazed. The enemy force started firing in my general direction simultaneously, but not a single round hit me. If anything, I was using their arsenal against them, flicking back shots through the cold night air. Slowly, they began realising that using firearms wasn't working. Instead, they made an even stupider move and started to rush me with their knives, bayonets and bare hands. I think I actually felt pity for them at one point, as I punched right through one of them and ripped out their heart. His face had an expression of surprise, before he had collapsed to the dirt and gravel battlefield, lifeless. In under half an hour, the enemy had been completely destroyed.

It was amazing, this new power. The ability to kill so effectively. However, I soon realised how much I had wasted. It wasn't good enough. All the pointless, energy consuming moves I had made as I was eliminating them. I needed to become more efficient. So I went AWOL, to train myself over the years to become better and better, more efficient and more efficient. The training was gruelling, insane even, but the thought that this power could possibly be wasted upon someone as spineless as myself had driven me on. It was at that time that I realised I couldn't exist this way. I was getting low on rations, and I knew that if I was going to survive, I was going to have to earn money. So I set up a business with the first idea that came to mind: Assassin services. It was slow going at first, small contracts, netting only 5000-10000 dollars each, but I realised that as I was carrying out my contracts, I was slowly becoming more efficient. I was using my abilities with much greater proficiency, and as I went, I also discovered new abilities, but the most prominent one being my 'instinct'. Sure it didn't seem trustworthy at first, relying on my gut to recon things, but I discovered that it was so much more. I could actually map out the locations of patrols, security cameras, traps, even infiltration and extraction points from over a kilometre away in my mind. In fact, eventually, my 'instinct' became one of my most powerful weapons against any enemies that stood between me and the completion of my contract.

A lot happened through the years, and eventually I became known as the best assassin you can hire, having decimated the entirety of Norway's defence forces when they tried to arrest me as I was completing a contract. I was making money at an insane rate, completing contracts for millions, even billions of dollars at once. It wasn't hard getting contracts, either. I accepted any contract, as long as two conditions were fulfilled; the payment must be suitable for the job that is being completed (thus the payment amount for each contract is usually left to me to ultimately decide upon) and that I was not to be betrayed by my contractor at any time. If those two conditions were broken, I would hunt them down and use everything at my disposal to kill them, whether they be a well-known politician or a dangerous psychopath. That led me to the position I am in today. A hired gun, ready to go off at any time and ready to kill at any notice. I was at the point where I had specialised clothes tailored just for me, although I did still make use of disguises when I was undertaking a contract.

Once, I was asked by a contractor if I ever felt guilt about my targets. I had replied that I did not kill them; I was only the tool used. "If you shoot someone with a gun, do you hold the gun responsible?" I remember saying to him. However, every once and then, I do look into myself in my bathroom mirror, and stare into my deep black eyes, wondering what kind of inhuman things those eyes had seen. What kind of thoughts lay inside that head. What kind of things those ears heard. What kind of things those hands had done. I was broken, beyond repair. I wasn't going to be human anytime soon. Not unless a miracle happened and brought that cheery boy, who died when he was drafted into the war, back. I was a cold hearted killer, but I could work on it. It was then that I made the resolution to be more like that boy I had met in the army a long time ago, Flippy, when I wasn't undertaking any contracts. At least then I'd be more humane that I had been for the last 20 or so years. I never asked for this.

My name is Vritra. I'm a hired assassin. Nice to meet you.


End file.
